


Poisonous Gifts

by angerhyn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek/Stiles if you squint, Fluff, Gen, Pre-Hale Fire, Wolfsbane, a little sad, pre-Mama Stilinski Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 05:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3839353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angerhyn/pseuds/angerhyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has to babysit Stiles and takes him out to the preserve. He ends up getting a poisonous gift from a well-meaning heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poisonous Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another attempt at Teen Wolf fanfiction. This one was inspired by viviena’s animation, link below. Now, I did a little looking, but because time-wise things don’t seem to add up, here’s a little bit of info you’ll need–or maybe I’m too thorough and just feel like I need it.
> 
> Derek Hale is 15 in this. It’s the day before the Hale fire. Stiles is 9 years old, and it is a couple of months before his mother died. The Sheriff had to work, and Derek agreed to babysit, because they didn’t want Stiles to have to sit at the hospital all day.
> 
> http://viviena.tumblr.com/post/103615094378/little-stiles-and-teen-derek-and-awkward-poisonous

Derek didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be babysitting some kid when he could be with Kate. But he’d promised his mom that he would, and he wasn’t heartless. He wasn’t going to make the kid stay with his sick mom all day in a hospital that smelled like antiseptic and death, even to, according to his cousin, human noses. Which was how he found himself coming over after school to pick Stiles up from his house–and who names their kid Stiles, anyway?

He was a tiny little thing. Buzz cut, Bambi eyes, moles all over his face. He looked tired. So did the Sheriff, as he thanked him again and left. Derek looked down at the kid, who looked up at him with huge eyes. Derek and Stiles stared at each other for a few minutes, before Stiles broke the silence.

“I don’t need a babysitter. Dad just doesn’t want me to spend all my time at home and Mrs. McCall said Scott wasn’t feeling good today so I can’t stay over there. Dad says he doesn’t trust me to stay by myself because I’ll set the house on fire, but I won’t because that’s stupid.” 

Did he not need to breath? Or stand still, for that matter? He was all but thrumming with nervous energy. But he smelled tired, too. This was an even worse idea than he thought. He was getting a headache. Werewolves weren’t supposed to get headaches! The kid was opening his mouth again, and Derek needed to get in there fast, or he might explode. 

“We’re going for a walk in the preserve.” 

Blink. Blink blink. Blink. 

“Okay!” 

Stiles held out his hand, dutifully, and Derek knew he looked confused for all of a minute, before he understood. He reached out and took the kid’s hand. The last thing he wanted was an angry parent telling his mom he wasn’t looking after their kid properly. 

“Mister, your eyebrows are weird. It’s like they’re talking to me. Did you know that? Do you have conversations with your eyebrows? Mom and Dad do. They do this thing when they think I’m talking too much. But they don’t ever tell me to shut up. The kids at school do, though. They’re mean, though. Especially stupid Jackson. Hey, Mister, what’s your name? Dad told me, but I forgot. I forget a lot of things, but I’m not stupid, it’s ‘cause I can’t focus, or that’s what my mom says.” 

“I’m Derek.” 

“Derek? Okay. Why are we going to the Preserve? Are we going to look for bears? Dad says I can’t ever go there by myself because a animal might eat me. I asked him if there were wolves, but Dad says there aren’t wolves in California anymore. That’s sad, isn’t it? I like wolves, they’re cool.” 

Derek’s lips twitched. 

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool.” 

The walk was actually more calming than he thought it would be. Even with Stiles talking a mile a minute, it was nice to get out. And the kid was fascinated with everything he saw. He asked a million questions, and Derek was a little ashamed to admit he made up the answers to some of them, just to get him to shut up. But he was a good kid. 

When they were about to leave, Stiles disappeared. He’d turned his back for a second because he’d heard something, and when he turned back around, he was gone. 

“Stiles?”

He popped out of the brush, his hands gripping something. He looked proud of himself, happy, less tired than he’d looked all day. Stiles stuck his hand out, and Derek felt his breath catch. He tensed, and remained silent.

“Derek, for you! Aren’t they pretty?” 

When Derek didn’t say anything, Stiles’ brow furrowed. He seemed to falter, mistaking the agitation on the boy’s face for anger. His eyes welled with tears, and his hand started to lower. Derek reached out, snatching the flowers from his hand with a grimace. 

“Yeah, they’re pretty. Come on, let’s go back.” 

He took Stiles’ hand, and was careful not to let the suddenly happy boy see the pain on his face as the wolfsbane burned his hand.

 

It was years later, after the fire, after Claudia’s death, after everything with the Alpha pack and Scott, that Stiles remembered. His dad had been looking in the attic for something when he found the picture Stiles had drawn for his mom about their day. Even crudely drawn like that, Stiles recognized Derek’s eyebrows and the wolfsbane in his hand. 

When asked why he took it, Derek scowled, and he shrugged. But it was a mark of how far they’d come, how close they’d gotten, that he answered. 

“I didn’t want you to cry.”


End file.
